


Cocklets Web

by Blobbyswinger69



Category: AU - Fandom, Animal Farm - George Orwell, Charlotte's web, Supernatural, The Land Before Time (Movies)
Genre: AU Fiction, Communism, Crack, Pigs, Red Scare, SPN - Freeform, farm, reds, wilber
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:51:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1297147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blobbyswinger69/pseuds/Blobbyswinger69





	Cocklets Web

"The runt," John grumbled, looking at the smallest baby sow, which was trying, ever so eagerly, for the approval of his master.  
John reached down and grasped the young piglet by the scruff of its neck, causing it to squeal in fear.  
John picked up his ax and walked towards the closet. The door read: John Winchesters laughter house. Except the 'laughter' had a big bloody 'S' painted in front of it. Transforming its self into 'slaughter'.  
"Please dad," Sam the piggy cried. "I can change, I'll grow! I promise."  
John refused to listen to him and simply grunted as he lifted his ax into the air. His hand quivered under the weight of the ax, but it was nothing compared to the weight on his shoulders.  
"Please don't do this, I'm your son," was all little Sammy could say.  
"Stop it daddy!" A voice interrupted. A blond child with two loose pigtails stood in the doorway.  
"Dakota Fanning? What are you doing here?" John gasped.  
"Savin' this here lil piggy a life, Dad."  
She bent down and picked up Sammy from the ground. "You look like a squealer; do you SQUEAL?"   
Before Sam could even answer Dakota squeezed his stomach with incredible nine-year-old force, forcing him to squeal.  
"Why are you doing this, Montana?" John asked, bewildered.  
"I did it for the vine, Dad. you wouldn't understand, it's an angsty teenager thing!" Dakota skippity tit all the way back to the barn, setting Sam back down with the other pigs.  
A larger, better looking pig scampered over and squatted next to the runt.  
"My names Dean, I'm dead on the inside, but that doesn't mean I can't lighten up yours," he slurred suavely. "Oh critters, you're not a girl."  
"I can be if you want," said Sam, desperate for someone's approval.  
"How about......no, I'd rather have my mother served for dinner on Christmas," Dean squawked.  
Little did he know, his mother was being served on Christmas.  
As Sam trotted away from the insults, Dean screamed.  
"A RAT!"  
The whole barn jumped, including Dakota.  
"Ew. Where?" Dakota yelped, searching the room. "I don't see it!"  
"It's Benedict Arnold!" Sam ran into the opposite corner.  
"Oh," Dakota laughed. "I thought it was a real rat!"  
"Yeah," Benedict sneered. "And I would've have gotten away with it, if it weren't for the reds."  
"The reds?" Dakotas eyebrows knit together. "Who are the reds?"  
Benedict pointed a long boney finger towards the farmers, who all happened to be wearing red.  
"They want all the animals to be the same, so they use their sharps weapons to make us all... one! Stripping us of our extremities, and killing our children!"  
"Yeah," Old Yeller barked in agreement. "Dey took ma balls!"   
A baby ducking turned towards mother goose. "Mama, tell me about the Dirt Path." She tugged on her mothers wing, even though she'd heard this story over a hundred times before.  
"When animals get very old, the nice farmer takes their, hand, paw, hoof, or whatever they got and takes them on the Dirt Path to the greatest utopia of all time."  
"Wait, what?" Sammy interrupted, thus calling on the baby duckling to explain.  
"It gives us what we love most in life. Last week, Whiskers the Pussy was 26 and John took her paw and she stood up on two legs! She hasn't done that in years and when I peered through the crack, there was fruit punch splattered all over the floor. Fruit punch! That's her favorite!"  
"Well, Ducky, we don't know for sure it was fruit punch," her mother said worryingly.   
"It was, mama! What else could it have been?" Ducky looked into her mothers eyes.  
"You're right, it had to have been fruit lunch- I mean punch." Mother patted Ducky on the head and receded back to her coop.   
"The Great Valley, Mama. That's where it takes you."  
"I don't know about no dumb dirt path," Dean said. Ducky plugged her ears. "But I'm breaking out tonight!"  
"But how!?" Sam cried.  
"I've been planning it for months. First–" John bursted in.  
"Who's breakin out?!" He hollered. No one spoke, not even Benedict (what a damn surprise, you'd think he would have snitched on all of them).  
"Ducky," John boomed. "Come with me."  
"No Daddy! Don't hurt her!" Dakota ran towards the slaughter house.  
"Shut up, Nevada!" John slammed the door behind him. Once they separated themselves from Dakota and the other animals, he turned towards youngen.  
"Hi Ducky!" He grinned.  
"H-hello, Farmer John. What would you like?" She stammered.  
"Tell me who's trying to break out, besides Sam's acne."  
"I don't know, Mr John,"  
"I can give you anything Ducky, just tell me."  
"Anything?"  
"Anything."  
"I-- I wanna take the Dirt Path."  
John made a shit eating smile. "You wanna take The Dirt Path, huh,"  
"Yup yup yup."  
"Then it's yours,"  
"It was Dean," she didn't even hesitate.  
Dakota and the whole barn watched John take Ducky's small, still growing wing, and guide her down the dirt path. When an animal was taken down this road, John never forgot his ax.  
Mother goose cried like a fool.   
"I should've told her," she sobbed. "My little Ducky."  
Right above all their heads, Cocklet the spider made a web.  
"There's no escaping from the reds."


End file.
